Red Sea
by Mirror-of-Roses
Summary: Yang died in a war she never thought she would have fought. What happens to her afterwards?
1. Red Sea

Yang silently walked along the surface of the red sea. It was so vast; the way it stretched further than her purple eyes could see calmed the blonde. The gentle waves moved underneath her bare feet as if she wasn't there.

She knew exactly why the sea was red. It was all the blood that had spilled during the war she'd died in. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd started walking. She wasn't sure if the war was continuing or had been stopped. She wasn't even sure if her friends were still alive. All she knew was that she was dead, cursed to walk above the sea forever.

Yang stopped for the first time in what felt like a few minutes, but had definitely been much longer. She looked down at herself, wondering what she'd been wearing all this time. All she saw was a plain white dress reaching her ankles.

White had been Weiss's signature colour. She didn't have much to say about the heiress, but they had been teammates. They hadn't been particularly close per se, but a friend of Ruby's was a friend of hers.

Yang took note of the sea's shade of red. Red like roses filled her vision, reminding her of her sister's cape.

Ruby had been practically obsessed with the colour red since Summer's death. Red was Ruby's defining colour; the one she nearly always wore. If you met Ruby, any and everything red would remind you of her: strawberries, ladybugs, the sunset, maybe even a pair of red socks would make you think of her. Hell, it was even in her first name, which was both a jewel and a shade of red. Her last name was Rose, which was a red flower and a symbol of romance and love. Yang wondered of Ruby ever found romantic love. If she did, she would never meet the person because she was stuck there.

The thought of her sister made her think of Summer, her stepmother. Was she somewhere around here? No, she couldn't be. If this was some kind of Heaven, Hell, or something in-between, there had to be more people than just herself. If that were true, she would have met at least thirty of them by now. Did everyone have some kind of afterlife meant just for themselves, to be shared with nobody? Was this her own afterlife tailored just for her? Why wasn't she spending it with any of her loved ones and instead doomed to wander the red sea forever? Surely the creator of the afterlife knew that she was more of a people person...

Which reminded her, what did she say to Oobleck when he asked why she wanted to become a Huntress? That she was a thrill seeker? That sounded pathetic to her now. She'd wanted to fight and travel just because, and helping people was just a bonus to her. Now that she died doing so, she regretted it. It was her thrill-seeking that brought her where she was. She'd been in her third year at Beacon when she died and she was only there because she wanted to be a Huntress. What was wrong with her? She'd lived a short life because of that. A whole nineteen years, not even two decades, and what did she accomplish?

Nothing. She was just another brawler.

Now, Yang was disappionted in herself.

Nothing could make her feel better. Why couldn't she watch over her friends and family and see how they were doing? Seeing Ruby smiling as she ate a cookie, Blake reading a book, even Nora's antics would cheer her up.

_Yep, that would lift my_ spirits..._ Eh? Am I right? _

Great. No one could bop her on the head after a horrible pun anymore.

_This afterlife sucks. _

Yang started walking again.

She never did find her mother, something she'd vowed to do. She wondered if any of her friends, dead or alive, ever achieved their dreams. Did they stop Cinder's faction from doing... whatever it was? Did Blake ever help achieve equality between humans and Faunus? Did Penny make any more friends? Did Nora ever break Cardin's legs? Now _that, _she wanted to know. Really.

How long had it been? A month, two, maybe six? Was it a year, decade, century? A millennium, perhaps?

_Damn, if it's been a thousand years, then I _really _wanna check on Remnant! _

No matter how long it had been, she never got to tell Blake how much she loved her. Those three words would never escape her lips and reach Blake's ears. The Faunus's fingers would never run through Yang's now ankle-length tresses.

Her heart longed to know what could have been, and she had a constant reminder of her mistake of not telling her sooner. A little black ribbon tied around her ring finger in a bow.


	2. Blue Ocean

Blake looked at her surroundings as she walked along the ocean floor. The wet sand squished soundlessly under her feet, some grains getting stuck in her black flats. Each time she turned her head, she would feel the water moving around her face and her hair slowly following her movements. Most of the time, however, she faced forward with her raven tresses fanned out behind her.

She remembered drowning in this ocean. The desperation, the need to breathe, the weightlessness. Now, she felt the exact opposite. She was serene, she could breathe without a problem and gravity kept her from floating away, instead making her feel as if there was no water at all.

_Wait. I'm breathing underwater. _

Was this the afterlife? She'd heard many tales of the subject. Some portrayed it as one continuous party: smiling faces, unlimited drinks, festive decorations, forgetting you were dead in the first place. Others depicted it as a horrible experience: the screams of eternally burning souls, tears of children outlived by their parents, the forgotten withering away and turning to dust. What she was experiencing was entirely different. She was alone, wandering the ocean floor surrounded by warm, comforting waters. No fish or coral, just her and the sunbeams slicing through the water.

Blake looked up and smiled at the sun's bright reflection, thankful for this afterlife. She didn't want an eternal party or eternal suffering, the only way she'd be happier was if there was a library with infinite books.

The sun. She wondered how Sun was doing. He was the first person she opened up to about being an ex-White Fang member. They were friends, yet she had this feeling that he wanted more than that. She didn't mind it, she thought he was handsome, but didn't think of him that way.

The water made her think of Neptune, who was Sun's best friend. She never got to know him very well, but she did know that Weiss had a slight crush on him.

The thought of Weiss made her reach up, feeling her naked cat ears. She remembered the argument they had about her heritage. The heiress wasn't all that bad, and seeing her reaction to Zwei made her think of Weiss in a more positive light. They'd gotten along and worked well together in battle, especially against the Atlesian Paladin. Their combo attack name, Checkmate, suited them both and she had to give Ruby credit for that.

Ruby was her optimistic leader. When the two officially met, she remembered her saying, "Well, that's why we're here. To make it better." The reaper thought of Remnant not as a world beyond repair, but one full of light begging for Hunters and Huntresses to keep that light intact. That's what Blake admired about Ruby and made her happy to be her teammate.

Yang, Ruby's sister, was her partner. She hoped that Yang wouldn't take long to move on after her death. Blake and Yang had been close, after all. She didn't want to be mourned for too long because she was just another star in the galaxy, an insignificant being.

Blake's thoughts wandered to Adam. They'd worked together in the White Fang and had been higher-class members. She and he hadn't been _friends, _but were close enough. She could still see the look on his face after she'd cut the link between train cars. His expression never wavered. His mind had been on the mission and likely didn't care whether or not she left. She was sure he cared just a little, but had forgotten about her.

She was glad to have left the White Fang. There were no regrets on that matter.

Although she left the group, she never graduated Beacon. She wished that she'd never died when she did and lived long enough to graduate Beacon with her friends, teams RWBY and JNPR. She missed them with all her heart and soul and just wanted to see even a glimpse of them again. Blake would do anything to see her beloved friends one more time, and the dress she wore only increased those feelings tenfold.

It was the dress she'd worn to her first dance. There, she'd danced with Yang and Sun and a few others. Her team had helped her pick that dress and the memory or JNPR doing a dance number together was attached to it.

If she hadn't gone to that dance, she would have regretted it. But she didn't. She went and had fun with her friends.

Blake lived her life with no regrets.


	3. Grim Castle

The sound of clopping heels resonated throughout the castle. It was an empty noise with no rush or feeling behind it. You couldn't assume anything about the wearer of those heels just by hearing the sound of them. However, there was only one presence in the castle. Weiss Schnee.

She ambled through each and every dingy, colourless hall she came across, wondering what she was doing there. She had no memory of this place in particular, but it reminded her of the house she lived in when she was younger. It was nicknamed "White Castle" for its mostly white décor and bricks whiter than paper as well as its majesty and how outstanding it was compared to the other houses. She remembered it being not a castle, but a mansion greatly resembling one.

Weiss also remembered having a sister, mother, and father. She couldn't recall their names or appearances, only their existence in her life. She knew that she was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, which was one of the most powerful in Remnant.

_That must be why there's a snowflake on my hand. That's the logo. _

Weiss looked at the back of her hand, stopping where she was. There was a white snowflake branded on her hand like a tattoo.

_I don't remember having a tattoo..._

She looked down at herself, inspecting for any more snowflakes that could be on her person. Her strapless baby blue dress with a white ribbon around the waist had no sign of them. She took off her white heels and checked the bottoms of them. Blue snowflakes, one on each shoe. She slipped them back on and started walking again.

Were there any rooms here? All she'd seen so far was gray and white hallways. They were all empty. No light fixtures, nothing on the walls. Was there another floor? She hadn't seen any stairwells.

Weiss was alone in the grim castle.

_Wait a second. Grim. That sounds familiar. Important. Grimm? Two m's? Why...? _

A flash of a Nevermore larger than an airship filled her memory. The loud screech, its talons digging and slicing into her body...

A sudden revelation made her stop again. She was dead, killed by the Grimm. Why did she feel like something was wrong with that thought?

Weiss realized that she'd been overwhelmed when she lay in front of the beast. The warm metal of the rapier she'd clutched in her left hand, which was covered in blood, meant something. She'd been fighting that thing. She engaged in battle and lost her life.

She remembered three people at her side. One blonde, one raven-haired and the smallest with silver eyes. Those eyes were filled with more worry and tears than the purple and amber.

_Ruby. _

She had a few memories of Ruby, the one standing out most being when she'd saved her from being crushed by a pillar during a ridiculous food fight. Weiss also remembered combining their skills against a robot on a highway with an attack called Iceflower. Her conclusion was that the two had been very close.

The raven hair belonged to Blake. Weiss knew that she was a bookworm, always curled up in a corner with Ninjas of Love, looking left and right every now and then. Blake was a cat Faunus, hiding it with a little black bow. She didn't have a clue as to why she wouldn't hide her cat ears, she thought they were adorable. Were Faunus something to be feared, she wondered?

The blonde was Yang, Ruby's sister. Weiss always suspected that they weren't full sisters because they didn't share any features. She was almost certain that they were half-sisters. She didn't remember anything else about Yang.

Why were they with her? They weren't family, so they must've been friends. "Teammates" was another word that came to mind. What kind of team were they? Certainly not sports or any kind of game. They all must have been fighting the Nevermore. She recalled seeing a gun-scythe and gauntlets firing rounds. Were they hunting the beast?

_Huntresses? Killing Grimm, manifestation of negative feelings? Where's this coming from?_

She had to trust that that was the truth. At least now she knew that she'd done something good. Those Grimm were the physical form of negativity, so were there any in this castle? Weiss certainly didn't feel happy. She wasn't feeling anything at all. The confusion and weariness of the Grimm had escaped her. She didn't feel _anything. _It was like she'd been pretending to feel those things.

Why couldn't she feel?

Weiss started to run, searching for a room, stairwell, anything. The empty clop of her heels increased in speed as she saw a door. When she reached it, she threw it open.

The room was as colourless as the rest of the castle. There was a single bed and a nightstand next to it and a window on the wall in front of her. She approached it and put her hands on the sill, leaning out of it.

All she saw was the night sky and a heart-shaped moon. No ground. She was stuck in a floating castle.

She was immediately reminded of her childhood. Was this how she felt all that time? Trapped with nothing but the necessities? Isolated from the world around her?

_At least the moon isn't shattered. It's a heart. It means love. That's a good thing._


	4. Placid Waterfall

Ruby smiled as she hopped from one stone to another. She'd only arrived recently and was eager to discover what this was all about.

She'd found herself in a grotto. Thorny vines decorated the walls around her with no sign of an origin. She was playing a game with herself to see if she could find the origin of those vines somewhere along those walls. If she didn't, she'd go underwater if it was deep enough. She wasn't sure if she wanted to find the depth of the water just yet.

_If I never find it, then it doesn't matter. This is a fun game! _

When she grew tired, or she thought she was tired, she sat on one or the large rocks nearby. It was almost shaped exactly like a rose, oddly enough. Ruby dipped her bare feet in the water and leaned over, looking at her reflection. Curious silver eyes gazed back at her and she blinked at herself. A tiara made of roses sat on her head.

_I know I'm Ruby Rose, but this is a bit much. _

Ruby giggled silently as she tried taking it off, but it wouldn't budge. She felt a sharp pain in her thumb before she ripped her hands away from the tiara. She pouted as she sucked on her thumb, not tasting any blood. She noticed her dark red tank top and dark green skirt as she stood. The water was shallow. At least she knew how deep the water was now.

_I wore these clothes when I was little... _

Ruby looked back at the thorny vines and noticed an odd gap between them. That had to be an exit. What else would it be?

As she drew closer to the hole in the wall, she heard a vicious roaring on the other side. Was it a monster? No, if it was, it would've found her by now and tried to eat her. She took her thumb out of her mouth and crawled through the hole. There, on her left, was water. It was on her right, too, and in front of her face. The roaring was deafening and water droplets sprayed into her eyes and on her cheeks and forehead. Ruby realized that there was a waterfall right at her fingertips. She reached out and touched it; the water was warm enough for her to pass through without problems.

She wiggled out of the hole and stood on the sliver of ground between the waterfall and the grotto entrance. She looked left and right. The only way out was through the waterfall. Ruby took a deep breath and leaped into the waterfall, the warm sun hitting her face before she plunged into the small river. She swam to the shore and sat on the riverbank, facing the waterfall. It was surprisingly small and a bit disappointing, but the setting was tranquil and placid. Her life had been anything but.

Ruby remembered everything about her life until her death and the events leading to it. It was like the world was keeping a secret from her. She knew she was dead, but didn't know how it happened. She concluded that this was the afterlife and was okay with that.

She was happy to be in a peaceful place like this. She could play around in the grotto, her secret hideout, and not worry about what lay outside of it. This was what she'd spent her life working towards. She went to Signal and Beacon to become a Huntress and help exterminate Grimm, deadly monsters that would overrun Remnant without people like her and her team, RWBY, which she'd been the leader of.

At first, she wasn't sure about that title, but now it was the only one that would suit her. She'd lead her team to victory against the Nevermore and the Deathstalker, which was mostly handled by her friends, team JNPR. She'd used her team's skills with combination attacks against the Paladin and Roman.

_Those attack names were pretty snazzy! _

How did she die, she wondered? With an afterlife like this, the very lifestyle she's dreamed of, she had to have died on some sort of mission or doing something Huntress-like, right?

Maybe Summer's afterlife was like this. Her mother had died during a mission, after all. Did they share this place? Would they see each other again? Ruby hoped not. While she did miss Summer, she'd always been told to never even think of becoming a Huntress. What would happen if they saw each other again? Would she somehow disown her or just be happy to see her daughter again? Ruby didn't think the latter would happen. She'd realize that she was dead too and assume that she was betrayed by her own daughter. That wouldn't be pretty.

Ruby was happy with being right where she was.


	5. Rolling Hills

The leaves crunched under her feet with every step she took. Her red hair was free from its usual ponytail and it danced around as the wind swept it out of her face. Vivid green eyes stared at her bare feet emptily, no true emotion hidden behind them.

Pyrrha was unhappy. This was not at all what she'd expected. When she'd lived in Mistral, the "Warrior Kingdom", she was told that when you died, you would be reincarnated to end any unfinished battles. The might of your weapon determined who you were in your past life, or at least gave you clues. The strong-willed had unwavering souls, so their next story would be told through the eyes of an even mightier warrior; their strength would transfer to their reincarnation and they would only get stronger from there. "Die a hero, come back as a God or Goddess," was a common saying.

She'd figured that the person before her was extremely good at multitasking. She herself had three weapons by default, four if you counted Akouo. Milò was a rifle/sword/spear, so perhaps she'd been a soldier. Maybe she'd been of a high rank and went through an accident, leading to her death and her reincarnation as Pyrrha Nikos. Her soul had passed a gift to her: the ability to be "untouchable". She could have been considered invincible and when she'd died, she didn't want to die in another accident in her next life. Any and all types of accidents had to be prevented, so what better way to do that than be in control of one of the most commonly used elements? You can bend your weapon to your will as well as others'. With enough strength, you might even be able to keep a non-Dust bullet in its chamber and keep it from being fired for a short time. But she hadn't been able to control metal, and whatever Semblance she'd had didn't help in the end.

Was that person wandering the rolling hills like she was now?

But just where was her soul, exactly? Did it float away when she died, an event she couldn't recall, yet wanted to so badly? Forget her past self, what about her? Were both her physical form and her spirit soulless? What _was _a soul, really?

Pyrrha crouched down, which was a bit of a struggle with the pair of jeans she wasn't used to wearing. She picked up a red maple leaf. She blinked when she saw a flash of a large maple tree, its leaves floating in the wind. That was the tree she and her friends would play under when she was small. Where were they? What happened to them?

_Oh, right, they left me._

Pyrrha remembered the events all too well. "_You're too good for us_," they'd say, "_you're a celebrity now. You're known everywhere_ and_ you're on my favourite cereal box. Go hang out with your cool friends." _

She never had any of those "cool friends" except for Weiss, and she came along later in her life. They just didn't exist when she was little. Pyrrha quickly lost her playmates and needed new ones, so she always made sure that she was polite to everyone. "I'm sorry!" was her catchphrase, not "You dunce" or "Leave me alone". That approach earned her acquaintances and study buddies, but not true friends. Those were the kind you could tell secrets to and they'd always have your back. If you went through a hard time, they'd cheer you up. The closest she had to that was her parents.

Until she met Jaune, that was. He was just your average guy. He genuinely cared about her. Over time, she'd developed feelings for him, but never knew whether or not they were reciprocated. Of course, she had made more friends than just Jaune, but he was her first one. She treasured them all equally.

Pyrrha stood at her full height and resumed walking downhill, letting go of the leaf. She'd moved on from her "friends" a long time ago. This was no time to dwell in the past, but the everlasting present. It seemed like there was no real _future _here in the sea of hills. Either time was slowed to a crawl or it didn't pass at all. There was always a gentle breeze kissing her cheeks, weak enough not to move the leaves so much. She would always be walking, searching for someone or something to bring a sense of change in this dull world. A house was preferable, a person more so, but there wasn't even a sun although it seemed like here was.

She needed different scenery. All around her were red, brown, orange, yellow and golden leaves. The colours of her armour stretched out before her as if to remind her of the life she lost. If they represented her physical body, was there a bright green leaf? There had to be at least one representing her eyes, right?

Pyrrha dropped down and moved the leaves around, hoping desperately for a green one. Then she stopped herself.

_What am I doing? Am I really going to look for a green leaf in all this? I'm spending an eternity looking for a needle in a haystack? _

She fell on her side before rolling onto her back, staring at the blue sky. It was hopeless.

There was a sudden strong wind, sending a swarm of leaves at her. They fell on and around her and she sat up, shaking them off.

_What was that? _

Pyrrha stood and looked up. Her eyes met the sight of a steep hill higher than the others. That had to mean something. She smiled and her eyes went wide as she ran uphill. Was something new there?

There was. Sitting at the very top of the highest hill was a chest. When she saw it, she broke out in a full on sprint. Pyrrha went to open it with relief, but the lid wouldn't budge.

It was locked with no keyhole in sight.

The redhead collapsed, her knees hitting the ground as she cried out in defeat. She screamed at the sky with no intention of stopping, tears streaming out of her closed eyes. How could this happen to her? How could this world be so cruel? Were there secrets in the chest? Was it something to big it had to be kept from her? She didn't know how she died, so she figured something about her demise had to be in that damned chest.

She needed to know, dammit! But she never would.


	6. Burning Village

Crackling, darkness, glowing patches of orange within it. A pair of feet slowly crunching the dirt underneath them. There was no calming breeze, no children playing, no happy couples strolling by as they held hands affectionately. The village was not what it used to be, and that made him very upset.

Some time ago, Sarasnay had a reputation for being a thriving village. It had been dotted with lush green trees, there was a valley of flowers and everyone in the village grew something edible in their backyards. A few had farms while the rest grew some herbs and one type of vegetable or fruit. Frowns were uncommon and happiness covered the village in a thick fog, like a warm embrace.

All of that went up in flames.

Ren still remembered the event, but it was a bit foggy. The screams of the villagers, the small crying children and smoke filling the air made up most of those memories. It had such an impact on him that the day of the fire was his afterlife. His village burning around him; his eternal nightmare.

He wasn't sure where he went wrong in his life, however. He'd become a Huntsman because of this very village. He'd wanted to protect people and that's what he died doing. Maybe this was a reminder of why he followed the path he did, maybe he owed someone a few Lien and never paid back, he's never know for sure why such a tragedy would surround him forever.

Ren was grateful he never lost Nora to that. If Nora had died in that fire, he was sure that he would never have gone to any combat school. He would have shut down. Yeah, he had a bit of a crush on her, but she was his best friend. He didn't know a time when she wasn't by his side. They always counted on each other. Hell, the two were _partners _before his death. If he'd died in that fire, Nora would shut down.

_Wait a second. _

Ren was actually _dead. _Nora was likely still alive and so was the rest of his team.

_I'm dead, they're alive. _

Jaune was no doubt beating himself up because his teammate died on his watch. Pyrrha was probably either comforting her leader of weeping for Ren herself. He was positive that Nora was dead inside. He felt terrible for leaving his friends behind, but he knew there was nothing he could do but watch the memory of his village burn.

Ren remembered what was supposed to be his first mission with JNPR. The village they were scheduled to go to was Sarasnay. It had been rebuilt and was ready to start over. The news had excited him and Nora so much, they just had to pick that mission. Their hometown was restored and they were raring to see it, Ren more so than Nora. He was crushed when they ended up not going in the end, but Jaune and the rest of his team tried their best to cheer him up. He'd felt better after a couple days, but the possibilities lingered in his mind for a while.

To him, Jaune was the brother he never had. Ren appreciated his efforts to become close to him, like when he asked him for girl advice. He wasn't sure why Jaune thought he'd be good with the ladies, though. Ren barely talked to anyone other than his own team and RWBY, who were also his friends. He wondered how they reacted to his passing.

Ren looked up from his shoes, seeing a bright light.

_Don't you see the light right before you die and not while you're dead?_

With that in mind, he jogged to the light and found himself in a valley. It resembled the one from Sarasnay, but the colours of the flowers were different. Typically, there were white and yellow flowers only; here, they were red, black, yellow, white, bronze and pink.

_Bronze? Do those actually exist? _

Strangely enough, they reminded him of Pyrrha's armour, Milo and Akouo and her headdress. Bronze was like Pyrrha's defining colour. The colour of the all-star "untouchable" champion of combat, the celebrity, the one who graduated Sanctum top of her class, the cereal mascot. Those were most of her titles, and while he had heard a bit about her before they met, Ren knew her as simply Pyrrha Nikos.

The white ones reminded him of Weiss. She was just as famous, if not more than Pyrrha. Her titles were Heiress of the SDC and Ice Queen. Ren didn't know her personally, so she was mostly the Ice Queen in his perspective.

Especially to Jaune, though; that's one of the two people the red flowers made him think of because of his hoodie. The blond had been rejected by Weiss a few times, and pretty harshly, in his opinion.

The other was Ruby, leader of team RWBY. He wouldn't be surprised if Ruby's one true love was Crescent Rose because she loved weapons and her own the most. Ren remembered seeing her go crazy over StormFlower and her eyes sparkling frim the sight of a knife-gun hybrid. The rambling reminded him of Nora, who he assumed the pink flowers represented.

Yellow was obviously Yang, the Pun Wizard. He didn't have much to say about her other than that.

The black flowers caused his mind to shift over to Blake. She and him were almost kindred spirits: they were both quiet and liked silence for a longer period of time than others. They had a few differences, like Blake talked a bit more often than him and her love for a certain genre of literature. Ren liked knowing someone similar to himself, if somehow comforted him.

Ren was at ease now, knowing that the flowers represented his friends and that they surrounded him brought him peace.


	7. Empty Carnival

Stringed lights illuminated the area better than the starry night sky. Booths lined the twisting stone pathway, translucent people running them. Cheery music filled the air and drove away the eerie silence that used to take over the carnival until she arrived. The carousel and the ferris wheel were both still and didn't seem to be operating. None of this bothered Nora, who hummed a happy tune with a smile.

She had just gotten there and wanted to explore, so she did. It had only been three hours in regular time, but time didn't flow in the afterlife.

_How long have I been exploring for? I think I just got here..._

Nora wondered how she got there in the first place. She just...appeared. Her memory was wiped but she hadn't been there that long. She didn't know her name, hair or eye colour or even how she really sounded. That one thought was the first time she heard her own voice.

Nora blinked when she saw an odd-looking hand beckon her over. Was that hand a bit see-through?

Her feet moved on their own and she found herself walking toward him, the owner of the hand. Her eyes went wide when she saw his face. At least...what should have been a face. There were only a pair of magenta eyes that took up over half of the visage, which thoroughly creeped her out.

The man gave her a small piece of laminated paper with a single word on it. Nora looked down at it before looking back up at him. He was gone.

The paper was a nametag with the name "Nora" written in bright pink letters.

_Is this my name? Nora?_

Nora quickly walked away from the booth, clutching the nametag in her hand.

Was this how she was going to learn about herself? Creepy people giving her little bits of information? She wasn't even sure if the one who gave her the nametag was an actual person. It looked like something from a child's nightmare.

Another barely-visible hand beckoned her over to a different booth. When she got to it, she noticed a sign that said "Knock Down the Bottles" on the top. This time, the thing running the game had giant silver eyes and nothing else on her face. She wore a black and red dress that reached mid-thigh. She pointed at the sign and handed Nora a ball.

Nora figured if she knocked down the bottles, she would win a prize. She absolutely loved getting prizes; nothing would stop her from winning.

_I like winning and prizes?_

Nora knocked down the bottles and the girl gave her a plushy and another ball. She held up two fingers and gestured to the now-set-up bottles. Nora nodded and threw the ball.

She won two more plushies before the girl disappeared.

_Why are they disappearing? As freaky as they are, I don't wanna be left alone_!

Nora sighed. At least the plushies in her arms kept her company and were cute to boot. She looked down at said objects before staring straight ahead. The ferris wheel was not far away.

_Maybe I could leave these guys in one of the cars. I don't want anyone to take them from me, so they'll be safe in the ferris wheel!_

Nora started jogging to the frozen ride, but she ran into someone. She stumbled back, careful not to drop her prizes. The person she ran into didn't look like a human at all. Its hair was three different colours: black, blonde and crimson. Its eyes were even more odd: each one was split into quarters with a different colour in each section. One had silver, ice blue, amber and violet. The other had ocean blue, magenta, vibrant green and turquoise. This was definitely a monster.

It held up a pink mirror. Nora stared at her face, taking in the details. Short orange hair, turquoise eyes, rosy cheeks.

The mirror and the odd being both disappeared in a cloud of sparkles, leaving behind six more plushies. Nora was positive there was something fishy going on, but she picked up the plushies anyway.

Nora sprinted to the ferris wheel, hoping that no more translucent monsters would make contact with her. When she made it to the car, she opened the door with her foot, dropped the plushies on the floor, sat on the bench and shut the door.

Why wasn't she tired? Was she always full of energy waiting to be depleted?

That didn't matter. She was safe from the monsters. There was no way they could get to her if she locked herself in.

Nora smiled, picking up a plushie and examining it. It had short red hair, silver eyes and a smirk on its face. The hood of its cloak covered the head and it wore a red and black dress, boots and black stockings. She blinked at it, having a sense of déjà vu. The plushy looked familiar, as if she'd known it for a good while. She didn't recall owning any dolls, so why did she feel this way?

_Ruby Rose._

A flash of a human version of the doll twirling a scythe around crossed her mind.

Ruby Rose was definitely a name and the plushy did look familiar. It had to be based off someone she knew and was probably friends with, but the only person she knew was herself.

_**You are dead, Nora. The war between kingdoms took your life.**_

_I...what?_

_**You're dead. This is your afterlife**_.

_What about this girl?_

**_The one in your hands is dead as well._**

_Are...all these dolls based off of people?_

**_Yes. Important people in your life from around the time you died. Some are dead, some alive._**

Nora stared at the Ruby doll. Silver eyes, black and red dress. She looked like the thing that gave her three plushies. That didn't matter, though. Ruby was dead, probably because of the war, like her.

_"Justice will be swift! Justice will be painful! It will be...delicious!"_

She remembered, now, how well she fought in the food fight. If she'd died in the war, it would have taken a lot to kill her.

Nora picked up a doll with gray hair, hazel eyes and green suit.

_Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon._

She'd attended a prestigious combat school. The next doll she picked up was further evidence of that.

_Professor Goodwitch. Aww, what a cute cape!_

She picked up a doll with long white hair, ice blue eyes and a frown.

_Weiss Schnee. Heiress of Some Dust Company. Whatever, look at her adorable frowny face!_

Nora looked at a few more dolls, noting featured she particularly liked.

_Blake's bow is sooo cute! Look at Jaune's armour! Yang has such an adorable ahoge! You can twirl it around and everything. Pyrrha's headdress is perfect! It looks so good on her! I love Ren's..._

Nora stared at the Ren plushy. They were best friends, that much she could remember. He'd died before she had, and she'd been devastated. Now that they were both dead, they couldn't see each other. She was locked in the ferris wheel car and he was heck-knows-where.

That was it. She was going to search for him once she figured out how to get out of that ferris wheel car. Damn everything else-she _would_ find her best friend.


	8. Elusive Riches

Hollow footsteps echoed throughout the shimmering cave; chunky high heels collided with the crystal with a loud thunk. Green stalagmites seemed to sparkle as she walked by them, twirling a tendril of minty-coloured hair around her finger. The entire cave was made of emeralds, which suited her perfectly.

Red eyes scanned her surroundings, which hadn't changed the whole time she'd been there and that worried her. Was anything going to happen, like a secret door opening up to a room full of treasure? There had to be some kind of action around her and it's lack thereof troubled her. She never wanted the world to feel like it was at a standstill. She never wanted to have that one moment where it felt like time has stopped. The very idea of it freaked her out to no end. Luckily, at no point in her life did that happen, but ever since she died and came to the cave she felt like absolutely nothing would happen in her afterlife.

When she was young, she'd longed for something interesting to happen. She'd wanted to grow wings and go on adventures outside of her small neighbourhood. She'd dreamed of her Prince Charming whisking her away on his horse and riding off into the sunset.

That was why she went with Cinder.

The woman had told Emerald that she didn't need to steal to feel adventurous and daring. She'd told her that she would give her food, water, shelter and adventure. Of course, Emerald had agreed. She'd had one Hell of an adventure, but now she had nothing going for her.

Emerald wondered if Mercury was okay. He had only joined Cinder weeks after her, so they'd been partners for a long while. She remembered joking around and, sometimes, getting into arguments with him. They'd been good friends, but now she was a bit worried. Had Mercury moved on? Most likely. He wasn't the kind of person to stress over anything, so she figured he mourned for a day or two and moved forward.

Roman? She wasn't particularly close to him, they'd barely worked together. At times, they'd make fun of each other, but that was as good as it got in terms of their relationship. He might miss her a bit, he might not at all.

Neo? They never had a conversation, one-sided or not. They had their respective partners and chose not to associate themselves with each other. The tri-coloured woman probably forgot about Emerald's existence entirely.

She really hoped Cinder missed her. The green-haired girl had looked up to her for years and had hoped that Cinder noticed her hard work. Anyone outside of the faction would think of Emerald as a lost puppy because of her attitude around Cinder, like a child trying to impress their parents. They'd think that is was futile because Cinder didn't seem to care about her in the first place.

They were dead wrong.

If Cinder hadn't cared in the slightest, she wouldn't have taken Emerald in. The girl wouldn't have lived the life she had. She wouldn't have died feeling content with her lifestyle, the people she associated with or herself as a person. If it weren't for Cinder, who knows what would have happened to her?

All Emerald knew was that she'd be called "Master Thief" for more than just stealing keychains and a few Lien bills.

She reached out and touched the bumpy walls, feeling the cave grow narrower. She wondered if her faction had stolen enough Dust to fill this entire cave. If this was wind Dust and not emeralds, there would be a strong wind, so much so it could lift her from the ground. Emerald smiled at the thought. The ability to fly had been one of the things she'd dreamed of a long time ago.

Now she had to squeeze her way through the cave, quickly sidestepping to move around. Her back was against the wall and her arms were stretched out at her sides as she compressed herself as much as she could.

Her hand found a curve in the wall, and soon after, so did the left side of her body. Emerald slid out of the narrow opening and into a large dome-like room. She turned and gasped inaudibly.

Lining the curved walls were pile of golden coins. An elegant chandelier somehow hung from the glistening emerald ceiling. Her feet were planted on a thin, narrow red carpet leading to a majestic silver throne with cream-coloured cushions.

Enchanted by its beauty, Emerald ambled along the red carpet to the throne. Leaning against the armrest was a sceptre made of silver with a jade snake winding around it with its head at the top. On the seat was a jewelled, silver crown waiting to be worn.

Emerald gingerly took it in her hands before placing it on her hand like putting a book on an egg. It was feather-light; she could barely tell it was there. She slowly sat on the throne, smiling at how soft the cushion was. She wrapped her fingers around the sceptre and held it with both hands, marvelling at the details on the snake's head and body.

_This... is my dream come true_.

They always tell you to achieve your dreams before it's too late. Emerald learned that it's never too late to do that.


	9. Falling Petals

There was no breeze, yet they sailed through the air before gently landing on the pavement. The cherry blossom trees were their origin, and the ground their resting place. Nothing was there to lift them off the ground but him, and he wasn't paying attention to the fallen petals. You could almost say he was unaware of his surroundings. He paid no mind to the neverending road as he walked along, the pink petals scattered on it, or the infinite amount of trees with limitless amounts of petals lining the road on both sides. He was too unhappy for that.

Jaune's life hadn't been long, like most of his ancestors'. They'd been Huntsmen and Huntresses and some had fought in the war, leaving Corcea Mors behind for future generations. In fact, most people of that profession didn't make it past 35 years old. If you were extremely skilled with your weapon, tactic and teamwork, typically you would live longer. Sometimes, like with Pyrrha, you die to protect the ones you care about.

He still remembered that moment. It almost felt like a dream every time he replayed it in his mind, but he knew it was reality. The past that had determined his partner's demise.

"_Jaune!" _

Pyrrha had shielded him from a Goliath attack. Goliaths were, by far, the most tedious Grimm to fight. They were tanks, taking seriously damaging hits from Nora's grenades and brushing them off like flies. Ren hadn't been able to fight alongside them, but even if he'd been there with his Aura skills, the outcome would have been the same. Pyrrha would have taken a bone-shattering blow, breaking some ribs, limbs, and fallen on her head.

Jaune regretted it. He didn't know what exactly he regretted, but the feeling still lingered in his heart. Perhaps it was because he felt he didn't protect his teammates. First it was Ren, then Pyrrha, and Nora a few months later. Jaune was last, dying at 23 years old.

Only two of his sisters had ever been seriously injured and one of the two died, so he felt a bit out of place in that regard. All of them were Huntresses with somewhat complicated weapons that would make Ruby squeal with joy, yet he received the heirloom. Maybe if he'd had a weapon like his sisters', things would have turned out differently for him.

_No. Don't think that, Jaune. Happy thoughts._

At least he knew how to fight in the first place, right? If he hadn't gone to Beacon and graduated, he'd have been a disappointment. An oddball. The blood of warriors coursed through his veins and if he hadn't followed that path, he wouldn't have been the person he was. He wouldn't have met team RWBY or been leader of his own team. The opportunities he'd been given would have gone to someone else.

But what if that "someone else" deserved it more than him?

Jaune had cheated his way into Beacon with fake transcripts, which were printed by Junior. Someone out there, whether they were Atlesian, from Mistral, Vacuo or Vale, had tried desperately to get accepted into the prestigious Beacon Academy only to be tossed to the side for an imposter. The very thought of potentially ruining someone's life and crushing their dreams under his heel still haunted him.

_No, Jaune! I told you, happy thoughts! _

He couldn't help it, though. That was one of his many regrets in life, of course he was going to dwell on it. It was like an "I shouldn't have done that. What was I thinking?" moment.

Jaune's mind shifted to what he hoped were happy thoughts.

Pyrrha was gone, so where was she? Was the redhead like him, wandering aimlessly through a neverending setting? Was she a lost soul haunting Remnant? Was she even Pyrrha anymore? He considered the possibility that she'd been reborn as a different person, but he wasn't sure. He just wished she was happy, wherever she was.

Jaune also hoped his sisters were okay. Had they heard of his death yet? What about his parents? They'd already lost a daughter, now their only son lost his life. He wanted to check on his family, but he couldn't. He couldn't even jump on the petal-covered road, let alone transport himself to a different universe entirely. The Land of the Living was certainly off-limits.

He wondered if he could visit his dead comrades. Maybe RWBY was there, too.

_No! Stop wishing death on your friends, Jaune! Keep it together!_

He was lonely and just wanted a friend by his side.


	10. Dark Ballroom

It was like a blotch of paint in the middle of an otherwise blank canvas. The apple tree stood tall in a valley of nothing but grass. It was like Neo herself: something that stood out in a very obvious way. The only difference was that Neo stood out in nearly every way possible.

Anyone who'd even passed her on the streets of Vale would think of her as the oddest creature in Remnant. Her hair was tri-coloured: one side was chocolate brown while the other side was pink with white streaks. Her eyes could change colour to form different combinations. She dressed differently from many people; the only one looking similar to her in that regard was Roman. She could be viewed as a psychopath, a sadist, crazy, whatever other names you could come up with regarding her nature in battle. To top it off, she couldn't talk. She was mute. Disabled. No one knew her thoughts when she couldn't write them down, which only added to the name-calling when she was younger.

Like the tree she was leaning against, she was alone.

An apple fell from the tree and landed on her head. She didn't feel any pain from the impact, oddly enough. Neo reached for the object next to her and closed her fingers around it, bringing it up to her face.

The red fruit brought back a few memories, but one stood out. The one that changed her life.

When she was twenty years old, she'd been trying to pick an apple from a tree. It was on the lowest branch, but Neo's shortness prevented her from reaching it, even with her high-heeled boots. An orange-haired man a few years older than her had helped her out, picking the apple and giving it to her.

That was her and Roman's first meeting.

It had mostly gone uphill from there, aside from still being made fun of.

Neo stood up, stretching her arms, legs and back. She placed the apple on the grass and started walking. She didn't want to be alone like the tree anymore. She wanted to find people who would accept her in this afterlife. Real or not, she didn't want anyone insulting her, calling her names or insisting that she "get therapy".

The tri-coloured girl blinked and the setting changed. Gone were the lone tree, clear blue sky and green grass. This was a completely different atmosphere.

Neo held a pink umbrella over her head, for it was raining. She stood on a long driveway with two streetlamps on either side. It was dark out, but she wasn't scared at all.

Only when she started walking again did she notice her change of attire. Neo wore a pink ball gown with a white petticoat, pink long gloves and pink heels.

When she reached the other end of the driveway, she approached an elegant castle. It was made if smooth, dark stone that glistened in the rain.

Neo went up the stairs, careful not to slip and fall. The silver mask that covered the top half of her face limited her vision. She reached the doors and opened one with a hard push.

There, in front of her, was a long hallway. The stone floors were partially covered by a black carpet lined with gold and several lamps hung on each wall on both sides of her. Awaiting her was a large silver door. Neo closed her umbrella and held it in her left hand. Her footsteps were like rolling thunder, loud and clear, as she approached the door confidently. She was definitely excited to find out what the environment change was about.

_The pretty outfit, this mysterious atmosphere..._

She paused with her hand on the knob.

_Was that my voice? Wait, there it goes again! I'm talking, but... my mouth isn't moving. Is this what my voice should've been? I sound... so elegant, like a queen or a princess._

She shook her head and opened the door.

Neo supposed that the whole castle was as dark and mysterious-looking as the outside and entryway. The hanging lamps on the walls and the grand chandelier provided a bright light, contrasting the otherwise black and dark brown foyer. It was fairly large, more so than she expected. There was a grand staircase, covered with black carpeting, taking up most of the room. The rest was empty.

Neo blinked, feeling out of place with her bright pink clothing. She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around. There stood a hooded figure, who was getting on one knee. They took her right hand and gently kissed it before standing back up, not letting go.

The figure was much taller than her, but she couldn't see their face. She assumed the person was a man based on their build.

He lead her up the stairs, making sure she'd left her umbrella behind so she could lift up her skirts. The two ended up in a small ballroom.

_Is this... a fairy tale? _

Neo knew a little bit about dancing because she'd heard it was like fighting: you had to be light on your feet so you wouldn't make a fool of yourself was how she thought of it. She and the man were slow dancing, a style she immediately knew she was terrible at. No quick footwork, no good. He didn't seem to mind her stepping on his toes or her mouthed apologies; it seemed like he was used to it. She really wanted to see his face, though. What could he possibly be hiding? If anything, she was the odd one. She didn't fit in, yet he gladly kissed her hand and was slow dancing with her.

He accepted her.

It hit her like a sack of bricks. Neo was clearly not supposed to be there, she didn't belong. Despite that, she'd been welcomed into the castle and not told to get lost. In all her days of being alive, that had only happened once. With Cinder.

Neo was at peace in the castle of her dreams.


	11. Starry Sky

They stood on a string tree branch, one hand on the trunk supporting them as they stared into the distance. Well, you couldn't really say "they" anymore. "They" was actually one person.

She was a fusion of the Malachite Twins. The girls had become one and named their shared body Miltianie. At first it had been hard on the both of them, as two people controlling one body was serious work, but eventually they got used to it.

Miltianie had the same mint green eyes, straight black hair and face as the Twins separately, but there were a few differences. She wore her hair in a bun with two locks framing her face, a red and white dress similarly styled to Miltiades's, black gloves, and boots striped in white and red.

_Melanie, do you think this is why we kept going back there? _

_Yeah, maybe one was all they could handle._

The Twins had been in foster homes for as long as they could remember. Every couple or family that had applied for them had had the same thought: twins weren't difficult to raise or take care of. Every experience had been the same for them.

First, the twins would arrive at their doorstep. The parents would be shocked at how identical they were. This had always happened. For the first ten or so houses, the Malachites would try to make things easy on the family: they were polite, smiled often and didn't cause much trouble. That seemed to freak them out, so they stopped acting like princesses and more like the children they had been. They were known as the Twin Devils after that. Every time they were sent back, it had been because they simply couldn't handle having twins.

_Well, there was the Xiong family, Mel. _

_I know that. They were the only ones who could handle twins. _

The Xiong family was Ruka, Kyoko and Hei: two mores and their son. Hei, nicknamed Junior, was 7 years older than Melanie and Miltia, meaning he was sixteen when the girls first arrived. They had gotten along well enough and his mothers adored them, commenting on how pretty they were and dismissing their mischievousness. Ruka and Kyoko had treated the Malachite Twins like their own daughters and not parenting experiments like a handful of couples had. The Xiongs had helped them for years and when Junior opened his club, they eagerly became his bodyguards although they were underage, being 14 at the time. They still remembered how they selected their weapons for the job.

_**"How about these?" Miltia had held up her fist with knives between her fingers. "They look effective!" **_

_**"Yeah, sure, whatever. Bladed high-heels are way better." Melanie had smirked. "I have strong legs, too." **_

_**"What are you going on about?" Ruka had asked, poking her head in the kitchen. **_

_**"We need to protect Junior at his club!" They had exclaimed in unison. **_

The twins were glad they'd decided to become his bodyguards, although one of their biggest regrets stemmed from it.

_Damn that blonde girl._

_We never got back at her, either. _

She had trashed the club Junior had worked so hard to open. She'd waltzed in like she owned the place, got past all the security, and blew up their second home. What baffled them the most was when she sauntered away like it didn't matter.

They'd heard she'd gone to Beacon to become a Huntress. What self-respecting Huntress would destroy a building with innocents and leave the injured to get help for themselves? Sure, they'd run away as soon as the fight had started, but there had been a few that didn't make it, hiding in corners and killed from the blasts. Didn't Beacon know of the incident and as a result were supposed to reject her? That was clearly criminal activity, after all.

Melanie and Miltia wanted desperately to get back at her, to make her feel the pain they and Junior had felt. They never had the chance to do it without too many people around.

They blamed themselves for what happened because they didn't protect Junior or the club or the people in it. That was their biggest regret. They'd been forgiven, but they didn't forgive themselves.

Miltianie tilted her head up, staring solemnly at the starry sky, frowning. She clenched her fist against the tree.

They weren't there to protect him anymore.


	12. Haunting Sketchbook

The room was white. The furniture, walls, floor, everything. Even her hair and dress were white as snow. The only things that weren't white were her striking ocean blue eyes.

She was confined to her chair, sitting at a table with drawing materials. Contrary to what most would believe, this was her heaven. Being able to draw anything she wished without ridicule was her dream.

When she was alive, she was deemed a recusant. Unruly. Rebellious. Her father thought of her as a fitting replacement for Weiss, should something happen to her, until she wouldn't give up drawing. That was when her grudge against Weiss formed.

In her father's eyes, Weiss was the epitome of perfection. The ideal businesswoman. The true successor of Jack Schnee. She was very well-mannered, independent, and had a ladylike air surrounding her. Even after she'd left to attend Beacon, Jack was hardly against it. There, she'd sharpen her fencing skills and be able to use Dust, the very product of the SDC. Weiss would also get better regarding social skills: how to handle people and how to effectively work in a team. They were all things she'd need to be even more successful in life.

Winter's love for drawing? That was unacceptable.

_ "Stop doodling! When you're in an important business meeting, do you bring a silly sketch pad and draw winking faces? No! You take notes and discuss solutions to problems!" _

_ "They're not winking faces, though." _

_ "Does it matter? Give me that book!" _

Winter had only wanted to draw, but was denied every time she asked for a sketchbook and pencil crayons. This was her heaven. She was free, in a sense. Sure, she was bound to the chair by some invisible force, but she was happy.

Winter grinned, her face the very image of hunger and desire. Her left hand rose from the armrest and she slowly placed her hand on the pencil, wrapping her fingers around it. She pressed the tip of it to the paper and the utensil moved on its own.

First came the head. A very familiar one, in fact. The side ponytail and tiara obviously belonged to Weiss. She stared at her sister's dead colourless eyes. Although she'd held a grudge against her sister, at one point she'd decided to reconcile and grow closer. Weiss never returned her calls, leaving her hanging after every press of the "Call" and "Send" button. Winter ended up hating her once again.

_I should at least finish the drawing. It looks pretty good so far. _

Despite her optimistic thoughts, she frowned deeply at the paper as she drew the neck and shoulders. Her hatred and resentment towards Weiss seeped into the page as she drew her sister with a shard of ice sticking out where her heart would've been, her body in a position where it looked like she'd been shot. Winter even threw in a small puddle of blood into the picture.

_No. Stop it, Winter. Draw something else. _

She turned to a new page, tapping the pencil to her chin in thought. She didn't want to do a complete 180 on the mood of her drawings, going from potential death to sunshine and rainbows.

_It's hard to draw sunshine, anyway. _

She needed to draw something neutral, like a building. The white-haired girl smiled, starting a new drawing.

Later, it was complete with many details, right down to the single stained-glass window and shading. The White Castle, her home, was on the page in all its majesty. Winter didn't know what to feel about the White Castle, remembering all the bad things that had happened there. Should she be happy that she'd lived in a mansion so large, it seemed to have been built for royalty? Should she be angry at the very thought of it because she'd been trapped there for most of her life?

Winter shook her head. Next page.

She wanted to feel, no, relive the feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins. A moment in the heat of battle.

She remembered the royal test so vividly, she had to draw it.

When she was thirteen and Weiss sixteen, her father had thrown them in a room and forced them to fight. Winter was definitely the disappointment in the Schnee family, but as per tradition, any Schnee siblings must fight for the spot as heiress or heir of the company. Winter's body was also infused with Ice Dust, which should have given her an advantage, but she'd lost in the end, making her an even bigger disappointment.

In her opinion, the only good thing that came out of the test was the fight itself. Despite her great dislike of Weiss, at first, she didn't really want to fight. After Weiss had disarmed her, she'd really gotten into it, using her Temperature Manipulation Semblance for the remainder of the fight. At the time, she was full of adrenaline. Looking back at the memory always brought that feeling back, so drawing a moment in the heat of the battle increased the feeling tenfold.

Winter smiled at the finished product. She and Weiss were facing away from each other, weapons raised, after they had charged at each other at the very end of the fight.

She put her pencil down; her hand had begun to ache. As she looked up, she silently gasped. There was a door in the room.

It didn't matter to her where it lead. What she cared about was that someone could open that door, taking her out of her state of bliss. Her happiness could be taken from her at any moment. Winter bit her lip, taking the pencil in her hand and turning the page.

_Draw as much as you can. Make the most of your happiness before it's taken away from you._


	13. Unforgiving Chains

She was cold, numb all over. She was eternally stuck in her seated position on the hard, seemingly frozen concrete floor. Her white hood was up, concealing her blank, lifeless silver eyes. She was stiff as a statue thanks to those unforgiving chains.

Her wrists, ankles and neck were in shackles, bound to the wall behind her by those short chains. She'd read her fair share of depressing stories while she was alive, so she knew exactly what her binds represented.

Guilt. Regret. Ties.

Summer was bound. Everyone experiences what she was currently going through: when you die, you go into a stage where you haven't accepted death. You are trapped in your cell of sadness, regret, and denial: sad that you are no longer alive, regretful of leaving people behind to mourn you, and in denial of being dead in the first place. Eventually, you accept your new state of existence and move on to a hopefully promising afterlife. Some are quick to do so, more take longer, and others never leave. Summer was part of the latter group.

While her soul was shackled, her spirit wandered Remnant. She followed her daughter around, watching her every move. She hadn't moved on.

The reason for this was her everlasting regret. She rued the day she died in action and left Ruby behind, devastated. She would never forgive herself. She couldn't even look at Ruby's face whenever she visited her grave. Her back was always turned. Every word uttered by her daughter, every silent tear as she stared at her date of passing, crushed her very being. She loved her so much, the fact that she couldn't be there for her hurt her immensely. All she could do was watch from the sidelines in her barely-visible form.

She he knew her spirit had vanished sometime ago, but she didn't know why she was still there. When your spirit fades away, your soul is free. Summer knew that from seeing it happen to everyone in the cells around her. They would stare on in confusion and sadness until they smiled and their shackles shattered like glass, letting them disappear in the blink of an eye. Her own face bore neither of those expressions.

The biggest smile she'd ever seen still played back in her mind from time to time.

It was back when the cells had been so full, some were occupied by two or three at once. Summer deduced it to being because of a war. That smile, no, that _grin, _belonged to a child. How jealous she was of that kid. She resented that adorable grin, yet it reminded her of Ruby and Yang when they were younger.

Speaking of Yang, around the same time, she'd shared her cell with someone that looked just like her. The long blonde hair down to the shackles on her ankles, the violet eyes, although sorrowful, definitely belonged to her. She'd read the name scratched on the metal around her wrists: Yang Xiao Long. The cause of death on the binds above her feet: blood loss. They couldn't speak and the blonde wouldn't raise her head, frustrating Summer to no end. Their time together wasn't very short either, which only made it worse. She left after what she thought to be eight months.

Summer suspected that Ruby was still alive when Yang died, meaning she was left behind once more. If Yang, the protective older sister, could move on knowing that her little sister was still fighting for her life without her at her side, why couldn't the one who raised them both?

The hooded woman's eyes scanned around her, her head still. Every cell within her field of vision was empty.

Why couldn't she accept death and have a fulfilling afterlife? She didn't know, and she was sick of it.

The sound of clanking chains interrupted her thoughts. She blinked slowly, something she hadn't done in a long time, at the sight before her.

It was her little girl.

Now she wasn't so little, she was clearly a woman in her early twenties, but it was most definitely her.

Ruby had just died and was placed in the cell in front of her mother's.

She was facing another direction so she couldn't see Summer, but Summer sure as Hell saw her. However, she disappeared as quickly as she came.

Pure, raw happiness showed itself on her face. Eyes glinting in excitement, lips parting and forming a large grin. She would have laughed if she could make any noise. Seeing your daughter in the flesh after so many years would do that to you.

Then, her grin faltered. She hadn't disappeared. She was absolutely _certain_ she had no regrets now. Where was her happy ending?

She wanted to destroy her shackles herself out of sheer will. She wanted to obliterate the wall she was anchored to. She wanted to go on a rampage.

Summer was an anomaly. One of the cursed.


	14. Scorching Pit

She seemed unfazed as she was pushed into golden cage by the shadows. At least, that was what she thought they were, judging by their paper-thinness and pitch black appearance.

In this kind of situation, surely the victim, the hostage, would be bound, right? Rope around the wrists, gag in the mouth, a blindfold for the finishing touch. They would be kicking, screaming, their pleas for mercy and cries for help muffled by a gag or a hand over their lips. Tears of desperation streaming down their cheeks, either hot with rage or pale in fear. Their life flashing before their eyes as they realized their end was near. See, this it what would usually happen.

Usually.

Cinder had no binds, for resistance and escape were futile. No blindfold, she knew as well as they did that there was certainly no surprise. There were no tears, she wasn't angry nor was she quaking with fear. She didn't need to come to terms with her demise, it was part of why she was there in the first place.

This was a unique situation. Her Punishment.

Cinder looked down at her glass slippers as the gate to her birdcage-like prison was shut and locked. She heard the faint _fizz_ as the key was thrown into the lava below. She didn't dare to look back at the shadows, her captors. If they were to report to Him, He would revel in her regret. In her eyes, he deserved no such satisfaction.

_It's no secret, _she thought as her cage drifted towards the centre of the pit of scorching lava.

She had started a war, committing a great sin and causing the deaths of thousands. The only way for her to atone was for her soul to be incinerated, no longer to be recycled for reincarnation or to wander an afterlife woven just for her.

In His eyes, she did not deserve either pleasure.

Her hands found their way to the bars surrounding her. Slender fingers wrapped themselves around two of them as she leaned forward slightly.

The cage was descending at a snail's pace. Tension filled the hot air as the vanquishing of her essence drew near. She'd been calm before, but anxiety rippled through her body. Her seemingly glowing orbs showed no sign of this.

Any memory of why she'd even _thought _of committing a heinous crime was long gone. There were many negative feelings involved in it, though, because she always scowled when trying to remember.

She was certain that scythe wielder had something to do with it. That person, she couldn't recall the gender, was so good a fighter she earned the nickname Grim Reaper.

Cinder wished she could tell any fool who'd called them that that nobody was like Death Himself.

She'd met him as soon as she died. It had not been pleasant. He'd sent her to the pit, sentenced her to her ultimate death. There was no way to forget the biggest scythe she'd ever seen being constantly raised above His head.

Cinder could feel the intense heat burning into her skin. She felt like she was melting.

_How ironic. _

The Dust mistress had killed many with her lava Dust. Now, she was to be devoured by the seemingly calescent substance.

She was on the brink of burning in Hell.

As the lava neared, she tried to make herself feel better.

_At least I have it better than some other poor souls. _

When she'd been walking through the halls, guided to her fate, she'd peeked through any and every door out of curiosity.

Torture lay behind every one.

She'd seen a few people strapped into guillotines. Some were getting cut in half by saws of many kinds. A poor woman had been burned at the stake. Someone had been silently shrieking in terror as leeches squirmed all over their body.

Cunder was merely going through a painless second death. Or so she thought.

Her cage had been descending at a _snail's pace, _after all.

First were her high heels preserving the rest of her feet for a brief few seconds. This was it for her.

Normally, whoever was sentenced to this type of termination would have squeezed through the bars and climbed to the top of the cage to stall for time. Cinder thought it futile: there was nothing for her to grab onto that would get her out of his situation. Nobody would let her leave anyway.

When the lava reached her ankles, she began to _really _feel it. Her once pale, perfect skin was bubbling, turning into a disgusting shade of red and gaining a nasty texture. She looked down daringly, instantly regretting it and looking back up. In her shock, her hands had released the bars in their grasp and joined her legs in the searing liquid. Reflexively, she took them out and stared at them in horror.

It was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen. They were like beasts so hideous you could not describe. She could barely register that those unrecognizable _things _were attached to her dissolving body.

In the end, there were no remains, not one cinder.


	15. Glittering Snowglobe

She was trapped, yet she was happy.

She'd resided in a cozy cabin for as long as she could remember. It had a large fireplace with flames that never died. It had a reasonably-sized bed, more comfortable than a cloud and had pillows made of the fluffiest of feathers. A small wooden table, a chair, and a stove next to a cabinet, which stored endless amounts of hot chocolate, marshmallows, milk, a pot, graham crackers, and broken chocolate bars.

Every day, she would slip on her thick dark purple mittens and a matching hat with holes for her ears. Her boots and coat already on, she would go outside and build snowmen, forts, make snow angels, and the occasional jaunt through the forest. She had no clue how long it had been going on for, but this was her routine, and she followed it with a big smile and bright eyes.

It was her sanctuary. Her perfect day stuck on repeat. Her heaven.

Velvet sipped her hot chocolate, an explosion of her absolute favourite flavour in her mouth. Her bunny ears twitched in delight as she swirled the marshmallow on her tongue. She was sitting on her chair, gazing out the window like she was contemplating something life-changing.

Or maybe she was.

_What's my name?_

Surely with such a simple lifestyle, you'd know something as simple as what you were called. This whole time, she hadn't put any thought into anything about her, just enjoying herself. No mirror to know what she looked like, no diaries containing silly or extremely personal secrets or tidbits on her personality. No way of knowing if she liked anything other than hot chocolate and s'mores. The girl was hardly sure of her own speech pattern since she'd never really thought beyond "This is fun", "Snack now", and "I'm tired. Bedtime." Some higher power knew more about her than she did herself if they gave her a life she clearly enjoyed.

Velvet set down her beverage and got ready to go outside.

She began to walk as soon as the cool breeze swept past her face. She didn't bother closing the door; the fire would keep the house warm with its enchanting orange glow. Her covered hands found themselves buried in her coat pockets and her breath came out in puffs. The crunch of the snow was calming her nerves; she didn't know why she was stressing over her name. It wasn't like there was anyone else there anyway. Nobody was there to call her name, be it in anger, casual greeting, or any form of love. The thought sickened her, but she shook her head.

When she reached her "snow angel-making spot", she plopped onto the ground and lay on her back. Fat snowflakes gently fell on her face, melting upon contact with her rosy cheeks. She sighed silently, a long drawl of condensation escaping her lips, and closed her brown eyes.

_Do I even want to know?_

There was obviously a good reason Velvet didn't know a thing about herself. Was there a memory she'd look back on and kick herself for? Start crying over? Would it make her heart swell with regret or sadness? Mourning? Nostalgia? Negative feelings were definitely involved in her amnesia. If it was so, why didn't she have happy memories? The cabin and snowy forest were there for her happiness, why not include other good things, physical or not?

All of these questions and more loomed over her like a storm cloud, but she was conflicted. Did she really want to know or not? She could recover a memory she never wanted in the first place. What then? Have that as her only source of information on her life, have it replay over and over to the point where she wants to exterminate it.

She decided she didn't truly want that.

If she knew one thing, it was that ignorance was bliss, and she wanted to keep that state of euphoria as long as possible. She wanted to stick to hot chocolate and s'mores every day, the amazing bed that never allowed the presence of nightmares, the simple life. She could do with the snowman-building, twirling around the forest with a dopey smile.

Why sacrifice heaven for knowledge when you could just be?

This was her first thought when she woke up again in her bed. One glance to the left was all it took for her to lose composure.

A white Christmas tree was in the corner. Not only that, but presents were under it as well. Velvet had no idea how it got there. As far as she knew, she had no such tree, even on the forest outside.

She swung her feet off the bed and stood, walking closer to it. Careful, shaking hands grazed the beautiful branches and ornaments. She gasped and jumped back when the lights wrapped around the tree flickered to life. Her eyes widened and her lips curled upwards.

Velvet laughed, a burst of sound shattering an invisible barrier she didn't know existed. She brushed the branches again, admiring the jingling of the bobbing ornaments and bells. Before, she hadn't heard any sound that wasn't the crunching of snow. Squealing in glee, she hopped from one foot to the other, the thudding pleasant to her ears.

A grin cracking her face in two, she knelt down and tore the wrapping paper off a large box. A sleek, light brown toboggan was inside. In another was a fluffy scarf, and in the final one was a yellow mug.

She looked at the window, wanting to know who'd given her those wonderful gifts, but beyond the falling snow was a dark table with a tea set on it and a couch in the back. Instead of crying out in fear, her smile grew.

She was trapped, yet she was happy.


End file.
